Dream a Dream
by Lain of the Weird
Summary: So yes. This is going to be a short story now. OOCness warnings still apply, as does everything else.
1. The Dream

Notice: I do not own And of Square Soft or Square Enix. I do not even own the original idea to this. It is from the owner of Tasty Graphite, and the inspiration for the picture est ca: laine,syste,msIllustrationsFanArtFFXsnog,jpg. Oggle at your own will and blah de blah blah blah. Does anyone actually read these things? Oh, and change the commas to periods and change the direction of the slashes for the link.

Notice Part Deux: This is actually my first piece of FFX fanfiction – thus the noticeable lack of quality. It just amused me, greatly. Sad? Yes, I know I am.

Auron had always prided himself on having a perfect sense of direction. Well, excluding that one time when a rather drunk Jecht had led him and Braska into a swamp, and they had huddled there until day break, trying to prevent Jecht from singing every drinking song he knew. Which was apparently, quite a few. But he never got lost. So how was it that he was lying in this small dimly lit room, with no idea as to how he got here? A door hiding behind one of about a thousand red sateen drapes opens, and a handful of women file in. He could recognize three of them easily, the only black mage he knew who still played with dolls, the bat shit insane Al Bhed thief, and his charge, Lord Braska's daughter, Lady Yuna. Besides those three, there was a girl in a short leather skirt with very, very, very long brown hair, a honey skinned woman in armor with an eye patch, and another girl with light brown hair wearing a very pink dress. They were staring at him, a little too intently for his liking. He gives them all his patented Death Glare ™. Instead of fleeing in terror, the girls step towards him. Fortunately, they've stop staring at his face. Unfortunately, they're now staring at the belt holding his Big Red Coat shut. Talk about unnerving a guy. "Who are you? What do you want?" He had never thought of his voice as particularly nice to listen to, it was too deep, and too raspy, but apparently it was orgasmic to the ears of these women. Not good, old bean. Not good at all.

The girl in the itty bitty skirt steps forward, brushing her ridiculously long hair behind her shoulders to where it falls past her waist. "I'm Tifa, Sir Auron." She bows to him, displaying a rather excessive amount of cleavage.

The brunet steps up beside her, twirling a lock of hair around her finger. "My name is Aeris, Great Sir Auron." She curtsies, her dress parting to reveal a very pretty thigh.

The woman with the eye patch, and probably the only one besides Lulu old enough to be legal, steps up, swishing a curl behind her shoulders. "I am General Beatrix, Lord Auron." She bows fluidly and winks her good eye.

"And I am Yuna, Master Auron." She nods regally, "and this is Lulu and Rikku. And all of us want one thing from you, and that is-"

"Give us a snog, you sexy thing!" They chorus, before literally jumping him.

A lesser man would have run screaming into a wall. A hornier man would have rejoiced at his good fortune. Auron, being neither lesser nor horny (….) watched them coming, wondering why the hell his katana wasn't appearing in his hand. Well, this.. this is bad. Very bad. And then the women descend upon him, squirming and fighting and pinching to have as much of him to themselves as possible.

When the bodies stop writhing and fighting quite so much, Auron opens his previously tightly clenched eye, and beholds a most peculiar sight: Rikku's big disturbingly green eyes peering up at him from around his navel area.

Somehow, during the melee, he had been almost completely stripped of his big red coat, leaving an arm bare, which the General woman was licking. Women are scary.

Yuna was peeling a grape, which she then dangled in front of him, enticingly. Ew. Grapes. He shakes his head, and leather sleeves brush against his neck. Waitasecond. Where was his cowl? And why were purple manicured fingernails sliding under his half open coat? This had to qualify as rape. It had to.

The girl Aeris was on his other side, waving a fan of peacock feathers. While the breeze was appreciated, her trying to tickle him with the feathers was not. And then the Tifa girl was trying to pull his glove off with her teeth. Ick. Cooties.

"Give us a kiss, sexy Sir Auron!" They chorus, before closing in like fiends on a baby.

"Wait! No! Stop!"

Everyone was gone. He tries to sit up, but is pushed down by the Al Bhed teenager still sprawled in his lap. "Where are you going, you silly? Don't you want to play with me?"

"No. Get off me, Rikku." Crap. Where was his coat? And his jug? Shit. He really needed a drink. And his sword. Maybe this little blond girl would take a hint if it was applied with a six foot piece of metal. Maybe not, but it was worth a shot.

"Why should I?We bothknow you want it." There was definitely something… smouldery in her gaze, and she lets her hand trace lower, past his chest, past his stomach. And even lower… "Is that the Masamune in your pants, or do you just want me?" She asks softly, pressing down.

"Noooo! Don't touch me there! Bad Rikku! I am not a pedophile, I am not a pedophile, I am not a pedophile, I am not a pedophile, I am not a pedophile, I am not a pedophile… Stop! Bad touch! Bad Rikku! Oh, no no no no nooooo!"

And he was awake suddenly, and there was Wakka, standing above him, smirking. "Bad Rikku?" He asks, grinning. "Brudda, you're too old for her, man."

Auron stares up at the guardian with orange softee ice cream hair. Well, Yuna didn't really need all six guardians, now did she?

SMITE!

Sorry for the excessive OOC, but it's a dream. Sue me if you don't like it. Er... don't. Cause all you'd get is 0.16 american dollars and some pocket lint. So it's really not worth it.


	2. The Talk

A/N: This was really going to be a one shot, but someone coughBivcough persuaded me to do otherwise. This isn't the best thing I've ever done, and I apologize. But please review. And I don't own a thing. Sorry.

Rikku was truly grateful to whatever deity, Yevon or otherwise, who had allowed her pleas to get through the Legendary Guardian's dense skull. She hated thunder, hate, hate, hated it, with a totalitarian loathing that would impress just about anyone. And yet, she hated the hotel they were staying in, smack dab in the middle of the Thunder Plains, even more.

Why? What on all of Spira could cause the Al Bhed thief to freak even more than traversing across a virtual minefield of lightning? Quite simply: she had to pee. And the only bathroom that was easily accessible to her was through the door. Which led to Auron's room. Which in turn led to the bathroom. Cred.

She lies on her bed, sprawled out every which way, and tries to take her mind off the terror inducing lightning and the steadily increasing pressure in her bladder. In the end, she growls another expletive and stalks across the room, sliding the door open slowly, and peering around, oh so stealthy.

She scans the lone figure in the room. It figures. It really does. The one night they have to double up is the one night that the Legendary Meanie decides to take a room all alone. Bugger. But he doesn't twitch as the door opens quietly, and she takes this as a good sign, slipping in and padding as quietly as she can across the floor.

She makes it across with only one or two minor mishaps, and has almost reached her goal, when Auron growls something and rolls over. She blinks, but upon no farther movement, dashes into the bathroom and bolts the door behind her.

Her business now finished, she flicks the light off and slinks back into the Forbidden Territory of Auron's room. She's almost halfway across, when something hits her like a piece of shrapnel. Maybe it's only an illusion of the lightning flickering, but there's something… sacred about the Legendary Guardian, sleeping, almost as though he was dead. He's abandoned his cowl, coat, and sunglasses, revealing a thin black top and leggings, bunched up to reveal the stomach of a god.

"Oh… my." She whispers, her good sense taking a sabbatical, allowing her to creep closer to the sleeping man in awe. She drinks the sight of him in greedily, a body designed by a master sculptor, with a series of slim scars across the eye and down the shoulder adding character instead of marring beauty. A wisp of salt and pepper hair dangles in front of his nose, stirring lazily as he breathes. It looks so soft, so wondrous, that she wants to touch it. She needs to touch it. Her hand creeps closer and closer, but she pulls it back as he twitches, and begins flailing around, trying to escape from something, or someone.

"No! Stop! Stoppit! Sweet gods, don't! Please! Oh… Bad Rikku! You nasty dirty evil girl! Stop it!" He continues flailing, lost in dreams, but Rikku is already gone.

She shuts the door, and draws the bolt, before negotiating her way around the bed of her sleeping cousin. She curls into a corner of the window seat, staring blankly out onto the Thunder Plains, illuminated more clearly by lightning than when the light of day filtered in. She chews on her finger, not noticing the tears dripping down her nose, or the splitting skin around her teeth. She sits like that a long time.

"Hey, Rikku."

She jumps about a foot in the air, or as well as one can jump while curled in a fetal position, and meets concerned brown eyes. "What do you want, Wakka?"

The carrot haired blitzball player ignores the false anger in her tone and sits down beside her, staring onto the plains pensively. "What's wrong, girl?" He turns as Rikku shakes her head nothing. "Don't kid with me. What's eating ya?" When she neglects to answer he frowns, rubbing his hair into its spike unconsciously. "You heard Auron talking in his sleep, dincha?"

Rikku nods, gnawing on her finger. She gives Wakka a pitiful look when he bats her hand away.

"None of that now." He sighs, and rubs his hair again. "Look, Rikku. I'm not sure that I should be the one ta tell ya this, an' mebbe you should talk to Lu about this instead, but you need to hear it." He grimaces, this was a talk he hadn't planned on having for a long time with anyone, much less a tearful Al Bhed. "Y'see, Rikku. Some nights, a man has a special sort of dream, a very special dream, and these dreams, these special dreams…" He takes a long moment to collect himself, and fails yet again to suppress his blush reflex. "And in these dreams, Rikku, a man dreams of doing something… special with a women he loves very much." He opens his mouth to elaborate further, but a small, somewhat salty hand clamps itself over his mouth, and he grins into Rikku's vaguely traumatized eyes.

"N-no more." She squeaks, absolutely disgusted, though probably more by Wakka's description than anything else. "I know. Or I'll ask Lulu. Yeah…" She blushes and stares at her bare feet, absolutely embarrassed.

Wakka grins, and claps her on the shoulder. "Good girl, ya." He turns to go, and calls softly over his shoulder, "Just between the two of us, ya, Auron's probably awake and in the common room by now." He slips out the door like a very brightly colored panther, leaving Rikku alone to contemplate her next move.


End file.
